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“What the f*ck?” Wednesday
“What the f*ck am I doing on the executive floor?” Edition
It’s week two of my life on the executive floor. It’s been surprisingly okay and I haven’t had to taper too much. In fact, I thought it would be very quiet and proper, and it’s actually quite the opposite. I’m still not dropping f-bombs or taking dance breaks, but it’s only a matter of time.
So here’s the scoop.
More security than Fort Knox
Cameras everywhere! Coming or going by elevator? Someone knows.(Don’t pull your panties out of your butt in this elevator lobby.) In fact, I probably got a demerit in my personnel file when they saw me taking this photo.
“Did you know you have gone to the restroom five times today? We know. We see you.” WTF? Can’t I walk past the freight elevator without Big Brother checking me out?
The bright side of all this security is that practically no one has access to the floor. You don’t get to see me unless I want to see you. Muahahahaha.
Top-notch snacks and such
Free soft drinks and Starbucks every day, all day. We even have several blends to chose from … and no more powdered creamer. Hooray.
We also get to nosh on the remnants from executive meetings. Free chips and pickles? You had me at “leftovers.”
Helpful signs everywhere
Did you forget how to wash your hands? There’s a handy how-to guide right next to the sinks. (Really? Even my four year old remembers how to wash her hands.)
Stressed? Feeling the pressure of being on the executive floor? If that is you in picture #3, you need a massage. (WTF is up with that couple in the middle? Did they get a headache when they realized they were at Olan Mills? Or maybe they need a V8.)
And finally, awkward moments
My favorite was going to the ladies room and finding the CFO and an EVP having a powwow. I wasn’t sure if I should just turn around and come back later, or go ahead and do my business. Do I really want to pee in the background while they are making important executive decisions?
Bee Gees, fuzzy boots and Pabst Blue Ribbon
After happy-hour cocktails to celebrate my friend Kathy’s birthday on Saturday night, the group decided to continue the party down the street at the House of Blues. Little did we know that we would find a treasure … a band that would play excellent music AND make us laugh until we cried. (In fact, we all stood around in disbelief for a good five minutes with a “is this for real?” look on our faces.)
I give you Tragedy, a heavy metal, Bee Gees tribute band.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Think heavy metal sound, disco lyrics, spandex, glitter and some crazy showmanship. (If I had known, I would have brought a real camera, but the iPhone didn’t do too bad.) They rocked all the classic Bee Gees stuff, but the pièce de résistance was their version of the Barbra Streisand tune “I am a woman in love.” (I almost peed myself.)
If you ever get the opportunity, you have to go see these guys. The music was great (if you enjoy hard rock and the Bee Gees) and watching men dance around in spandex jumpsuits is surprisingly entertaining.
Yes, that is a slightly hefty guy wearing silver spandex shorts, fuzzy pink boots and hot-pink, elbow-length gloves. This photo really doesn’t do his beer belly justice.
P.S. There was also an AC/DC tribute band that sounded exactly like the original (and they definitely looked the part). They were excellent, but unless you are wearing fuzzy boots and spandex shorts, you don’t get an entire blog post.
P.P.S. Dan thought is was hysterical that HOB serves Pabst Blue Ribbon. Apparently, it brought back some high-school memories for him, so he bought a bucket of them and made us all drink one. Yuk.
“What the f*ck?” Wednesday
Morons on wheels
I can’t get away from them. My tolerance is definitely low (because I didn’t have to drive in rush-hour traffic from 2000 to 2008), but I think I attract the dumbest of the dumb. Not only did this guy drive halfway on the shoulder for the entire 10-mile stretch of freeway (even on the overpasses … he was maybe a foot from the bridge railing), he was also tailgating and stomping on his brakes randomly.
This person is why I can never get a concealed handgun permit.
Didn’t need to see that
This was at the checkout line. Ugh. President Obama does not make a pretty woman. And WTF is up with putting him in drag at checkout anyway?
Ruining crappy TV for everyone
Really, “E!”? I know late night is the time for all the ridiculous infomericals and chat-line advertisements, but booty calls at 11:30? No one is that drunk until way after midnight. This seems like a new low even for you.
I just need to pee
Okay, I am all for having something to say, but you need to pick an appropriate time and place. I couldn’t decide if this was a “deep thought” or just a commentary on toilet paper. After a moment or two, I was like “WTF? I’m in the bathroom.” Could we stop with the 24/7 messaging? I just want to pee and look at the bathroom door.
Ahhh, the weekends
Life has been exceptionally good lately. The last three weekends have been so much fun that it actually made up for all the crap I put up with during the week. What a nice change!
I took Anabella for her first pedicure, which she loved. Between the cartoons, the ice cream with sprinkles and the flowers painted on her toenails, I think she’s hooked. She giggled through her entire foot rub, which was highly entertaining for everyone.
I also spent a recent weekend at Lake Livingston, relaxing with girlfriends. At first, that mommy guilt kicked in, but once I had a coffee martini in me (drinking at 10 a.m. rocks!), I was in heaven. It’s been a long time since I have laughed so much and so hard. This is a place I’ve been visiting since my mid-20’s, so it was nice to reconnect with ME. I took some notes on my iPhone of all the funny things said that day, but when I went back and read them … well, it wasn’t exactly PG stuff. Girls can be raunchy after a few vodka lemonades!
Check out the view … how perfect is that? I also got to indulge my need for speed on one of the new wave runners. 49 MPH, folks! (I had the butt bruises to prove it.)
Last weekend, Anabella and I went to KB’s house to help decorate cupcakes for a bake sale to support my friend Kathy’s puppy rescue charity. Anabella had the best time and looked friggin’ adorable. She even did a pretty good job decorating.
And sampling …
And then we got to bottle feed these sweet little babies … all 8 of them. My recent tingling of wanting another baby was completely squashed, so that was the good news.
Scarlett is still adorable and perfect … and nearing two! Lately, she has been discovering her love of shoes.
And the best part of the last few weekends … Anabella is now miraculously potty trained! I don’t WTF happened there, but thank you to the potty gods for small favors. That child has given me more bathroom problems than I could have ever imagined … remember the days of finger painting with poop?! Or when I had to duct tape her into her diapers? No more! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“What the f*ck?” Wednesday
Dear Mr. Scooter Rider:
WTF are you doing on the freeway in the middle of rush hour, IN THE FAST LANE, on that effing thing?? It was irritating enough when we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic and you kept messing around with the strap on your helmut and nearly falling off every 10 feet. But when we broke free from the pack — and you couldn’t go over 45 MPH — well, let’s just say my road rage nearly got the best of me.
It would have been totally wrong to gently bump into you with my SUV, but at least my blood pressure would have been back to a normal level.
Please stop kidding yourself … that is not a motorcycle. It’s a glorified moped. And you ride your moped to the neighborhood pool and back. Just like I did when I was in high school.
P.S. If this is your mid-life crisis, you really missed the mark.
P.P.S. And don’t let me catch you in anything leather.
“What the f*ck?” Wednesday
Saw this sign at the church where my girls attend a Mother’s Day Out program. They also serve breakfast to the homeless every morning.
Anyone care to speculate on what kind of bathroom vandalism would cause an entire PBJ lock down?
Busy Monday … but what’s Scarlett balancing on her head today?
A lense cap.
“What the f*ck?” Wednesday
The unfriendly skies
WTF is up with all the plane crashes and near-misses lately? A plane crashed in Iran this morning… a foot-long hole “opened up” in the fuselage of a Southwest flight on Monday … doesn’t seem like a good time to get on a plane, huh?
We haven’t been traveling much these past two years because taking toddlers on planes not only makes you incredibly unpopular, it also makes you feel like an unqualified cat herder. But with all the recent crashes and emergency landings, Dan and I have discussed taking separate flights next time we travel somewhere without the kiddos. Not that I find that to be a bad idea. Might as well get a break from everyone, right?
Why senior citizens shouldn’t give birth
Remember that woman who had twins a few years ago at the age of 66? Well, she died. They are 2 years old. They were conceived with donor eggs and sperm, so they have no father or true extended family. Ridiculous. Selfish. Argh.
Taxidermy at it’s finest?
On my lunch-time cruise of TweetDeck (yes, I have a bit of a problem now … I’m hooked), I came across these photos.
Be warned. I got a little queasy when I took the time to think about what I was looking at. The last photo is my personal favorite … and a potential Father’s Day gift for Dan next year. Nothing says “we love you” like mouse-head cuff links.
P.S. I can access “F*ck You Penguin” again today. FU, IT.
Happy birthday, Anabella
My baby turned FOUR last Saturday. FOUR. I can hardly believe how fast the years have flown by. It seems as though she has instantly turned into an opinionated, funny, strong-willed, somewhat bossy, thoughtful, good-natured, emotional, sweet little person.
So anyway, we (me) threw a SpongeBob water slide party. 
Thanks to Nam for spending 2-1/2 hours helping me ice this friggin’ cake! Then her kiddos got fever and she couldn’t even come over and enjoy the glory. And of course I didn’t give her any credit.
Anabella finally decided she wanted to be four. Up until party time, she was TWO, dammit.
I wanted to strangle Dan when he came home with this million-dollar water slide last summer, but it’s probably the best money we’ve spent in a long time. It’s durable, the kids will play on it for hours on end, and in Texas, we have lots of time to use it.
I almost peed myself laughing when Scarlett came down the water slide. Her expression was 70 percent “WTF? Please call CPS!” and 30 percent “I think this is fun.”
Anabella got a ton of great gifts, but this one was a big hit, which means Anabella and Scarlett threw-down over it. (For all you Noggin virgins, it’s the hat and glasses that DJ Lance wears on Yo Gabba Gabba.) The hat plays dance music from YGG when you move.
Happy birthday, Anabella. As my favorite four year old always tells me … “you’re my girl!”